I always click on the saddest, most horrible articles in the New York Times online. Yesterday, I read about a study finding that parents who lose a child have an increased risk of heart attacks. The idea being that heartbreak actually breaks your heart. I read most of the comments, too. The most pertinent one was, “No kidding.”
The saddest one, the one I most identified with was this, from a mother:
I have never been the same. My broken heart was only part of the casualty. A shadow appearing as myself has been going about the Sisyphean task called life.
Yes, that’s a perfect summation. I am here but not here. That’s just the way it is.
I dutifully read the bleak, sappy, distressing and sometimes clueless comments and was finally rewarded by a guy who pointed out that the African dik-dik dies of heartbreak after a partner passes away. I pictured a noble tribe of nomadic herders, swathed in beads and kente cloth and dropping dead in their paths.
But the dik-dik is a tiny species of antelope, reaching only around 12 to 16 inches high! Unlike other antelope, who live in herds, the dik-dik live in pairs. They are monogamous partners for life, and so protective of their privacy that they chase away their own offspring before they reach 8 months old.
The dik-dik are not only cute, with wiggly noses and long eyelashes, but obviously incurable romantics! Without the defenses of a herd, they are easy prey for larger animals, but they are true to their nature, trusting and depending on each other for everything.
And here is the best part: Instead of marking their territory with urine, like most animals, the dik-dik mark their territories with tears.
dik-dik bury their heads into the grass and release a special tear from a black spot below their eyes. This sticky preorbital glandular fluid cannot be smelled by human nostrils but conveys everything necessary to other dik-dik.
I love them so much. A world with dik-dik in it can’t be dismissed as all bad. It’s mostly bad, but like the dictum, focus on the dopeness, not the wackness, I’m going to focus on the dik-dik, and so should you.
Thank you! I love them… What a contrast with the rest of the world. ??
Miranda – Dik-dik and otters, our consolation for being humans.
I’m completely in awe of you. You’re such a compelling writer, a
person very much in possession of a core. You manage to be incredibly funny even though this unimaginable horror appears to have happened in your life. You excoriate haters and assholes in your writing yet you’re so kind and courteous in your responses to the comments here. I read your blog at night when my world is darker than usual. I always feel better afterward.
The dik-dik is adorable, but I found the nose extension at :21 mildly frightening.
Alison – You are so nice to say this! It is so encouraging and means so much. xoxo
Alison – Wait, I forgot about the nose! Yes, it was “problematic”, I just chose to interpret it as cute. Sorry to scare you!
I just wanted to say that I started reading your blog as a college student (more than 10 years ago…goodness) and even though I was young and green I really felt a connection with the honest, smart, vulnerable, and heartfelt things you wrote. I recently googled your blog, and was overjoyed to find that you are still writing! Your posts are just as comforting now as before. I’ve spent the day catching up on what I’ve missed. I recently lost a dear friend quite suddenly, and although it absolutely cannot compare to the loss of your son, your posts about grief including this one on the adorable dik-dik are soothing. Grieving is natural and we all find our own way. I’ve said too much now. You are great and please do keep writing 🙂
Vee – How nice of you to tell me this! I love the continuity of people reading my blog back in the day. I’m so glad to offer comfort; loss is brutal and it’s one of the few things I know about. xoxo